Day Three Hundred Forty-Seven

Uh, COVID fixed dance competitions. WHOWOULDATHUNKIT?

I mentioned previously that the scheduling was much improved. Instead of losing an entire weekend to less than 20 minutes of dance, all of Alexis' performances were crammed into a short period of time. That was every bit as beautiful as I expected it to be.

But, wait. There's more!

It was only our studio there. And there was a strict "2 observers per dancer" limit. So in an auditorium that could have fit 1000 people, there couldn't have been but maybe 50. Social distancing was forced with taped off rows of seats. In fact, only every fifth row was available, and even then it was staggered as to which seats in the row were open for business. And ... AND! They made it impossible to sit with people not from your household because they only had two seats open in that row.

::Swoon::

That means I didn't have to brush past strangers and I didn't have somebody's grandparents stepping on my feet in the middle of a performance because they just HAD to get out right that second. I also didn't have to deal with people coughing or sneezing on me- real things that have happened before - because no sick people were allowed inside, no matter how much they swore it was just allergies.

AND THERE WAS NO BIG AWARDS THING AT THE END! I think that might be my favorite part. Dance competitions usually have a big awards thing every four hours or so. It includes every dancer humanly possibly shoved on stage, a lot of screaming and cheering, and generally a whole lot of trophies getting handed out. This particular year and at this competition, only soloists will get trophies and they will get them when they get home. The money usually spent on trophies was donated to charity instead.

Good call, people. Those trophies just end up collecting dust at the studio.

No awkward group dinners.

The most spread out dressing room I have ever seen, and with only our studio and with a strongly worded ask that parents not help their kids get dressed unless absolutely necessary.

Strictly enforced mask wearing. So strict I saw someone kicked out.

A live stream that worked for most of the night (they usually work for like 3 minutes).

And a really happy Alexis because it had been a year since she last danced on a stage and she very much so missed it.

Day Three Hundred Forty-Six

I've always been extremely gifted at the art of not finishing things, but I think COVID is making it SO MUCH WORSE. If I walk around our house, I can find a few dozen projects that are 95% complete. It's always been that way. But now? It's basically ALL OF THE PROJECTS.

Case in point, I decided the hole above our fireplace was stupid, no good, worthless, and in need of destruction. It has been a year since I made that happen, even going so far as to put fancy tile around it and nice trim. It looks good. Truly. But I can't show you a photo of it because apparently I'm just not going to grout the tile? Also, the thick piece of wood that makes the new mantel is warped and it appears I'm never going to stop at Lowe's to purchase a replacement.

Which, that's just dumb.

Also on the unfinished list is the paint in the kitchen and family room. Again, it's a project that I started over a year ago. Again, it's a project that I nearly finished very shortly after starting. But now? A year later? There's about 10' of baseboard that still needs to be painted. At this point, I might wait until I'm painting the rest of the house to finish it.

One set of curtains has been hung. The other one sits in the closet.

The family room window has been reframed and made to look much better, but there's a piece of trim that was never hung up below it.

The book shelves in the girls' office is missing a single piece of trim as well. It's even been cut. It just needs to be nailed into place and painted. I'll do that at about a quarter after never, I guess.

The list goes on and on. Nearly every project I've started in the past year has sat incomplete.

I'm blaming COVID, which means I need ot hear that other people aren't finishing things either. PLEASE TELL ME I'M NOT ALONE IN MY INCOMPETENCE. Even if you have to lie to me.

Day Three Hundred Forty-Five

I think people who worked from home in the Before Times will tell you that children are not to be seen or heard from during meetings, but hahahahalolz, we're in the COVID times. The children have nowhere to go. That means that Mila occasionally makes an appearance during a Very Important Work Meeting.

Before I switched jobs, I could GUARANTEE she would show up when I was talking to certain people. She apparently knew their voices? And wanted to be seen by them? Switching who I interact with on a day-to-day basis has messed the kid up. She doesn't know who exactly she wants to be best friends with. One of these days she's going to figure out who else has a kid around her age who wants to visit and then it will be CHAOS. The children will take over.

I guarantee it's coming. There are two potential co-worker kids who could become Mila's next best friend. It's just a matter of the timing being just right.

All of that is to say, sometimes Mila REALLY has to ask me a question and it can't wait and she is going to interrupt. We're working on learning to have a little patience and wait turns and all of that, but I'm coming down on the side of being okay with the brief interruptions. I certainly don't mind when someone from my team has a kid in their lap, so my own kid should be able to assert herself as more important than the work thing every once in a while. I can still do my job, even when she's there. So. Interrupt. Sometimes. It's fine.

Priorities and that.

In the past week, Mila has declared priorities to be a thing I don't necessarily agree with. For reasons I do not pretend to understand, she has had multiple questions for me that had to be answered with the utmost of urgency.

1. What's in our attic? Seriously, she had to know IMMEDIATELY, which is fun because there's nothing in our attic but insulation and dead bugs. It's not a real attic, after all. It's a crawl space.

2. Which tutu should she wear to dance class ... IN FIVE HOURS? Seriously, it was an urgent question and she super didn't care that class was hours away or that I really don't care what she wears to dance class.

3. Could I please put a Hedwig t-shirt on my shopping list? Monday at 9:00 am when I won't be going to any stores until Friday is definitely the right time for that question. 

4. How many days is it until spring? We've talked about this one and the answer is always, "Go ask the Alexa" so I don't know why she thought I would suddenly answer such a question.

5. Should she have a chocolate cake or a vanilla cake FOR HER NINTH BIRTHDAY. I don't know what happened to her seventh or eighth birthdays. We're planning her ninth, apparently.

I am, perhaps, beginning to understand just a tiny bit why my parents answered nearly every one of my questions with, "Children are to be seen and not heard."